


far from being

by brennuityy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Divorce, Family Dynamics, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Karasuno, Kinda, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brennuityy/pseuds/brennuityy
Summary: kei was six years old when he first experienced loss. it was less than a year later, age seven, when kei felt the pain of it like his mom had. he thought it would become easier the older he got. it didn’t.kei tsukishima unravels the truth behind life, death, and everything in between.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. monachopsis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> monachopsis - n. the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.

kei was six years old when he first experienced loss. his grandpa, though he hardly knew him, died in his sleep. it was an odd thing to see a parent cry. they weren’t supposed to get sad. they were grownups. his mother had just lost her second father, but kei was six. he sat quietly on the couch while akiteru attempted to sooth their mother’s woes. it felt like earth stopped orbiting, if only for a moment. his dad wasn’t home. 

it was less than a year later, age seven, when kei felt the pain of it like his mom had. in hindsight, maybe if he hadn’t demanded to go to the vet with his mother that night, it would have been easier. but probably not, kei figures now. it was quiet without a dog in the house. akiteru felt the worst. his dad came home from work early. 

he thought it would become easier the older he got. it didn’t. he lost his grandma at age 10. kei and akiteru sat on their back porch together, looking up at the sky. he clutched the necklace his grandma gave him, a woven basket charm hanging from the chain like an apple from a branch. the boards of the porch grew mold. they faintly heard a dog barking somewhere in the neighborhood. akiteru cried. kei didn’t. he didn’t know how to. neither of their parents were home. 

kei did learn to cry, eventually. his parents no longer slept in the same bed.  
“he snores,” his mom had explained, “i can’t sleep.” his dad usually crashed in kei’s bed. it was bigger than akiterus. eventually, he got used to the warm body opposite his. he didn’t like when akiteru woke their dad up in the middle of the night, claiming a nightmare demanded his comfort. kei pretended not to care, but he had nightmares, too. he woke up mourning the loss of himself in a dream, like a ghost attending its own funeral. the comfortable routine of company in his bed cracked and shattered. akiteru needed it more now. 

yamaguchi could keep him grounded. when his ceilings leaked of water damage, yamaguchi would invite kei to play with his cat. when his floorboards peeled up, yamaguchi had sidewalk chalk in his hand and dust in his bangs. when kei tipped off the edge in a dream, when his boat sank or his car crashed, he was luck to wake up to yamaguchi’s room and yamaguchi’s bed and maybe even feel the heat from yamaguchi’s body. he’d be shaken awake to the smell of cinnamon rolls and perhaps he could forget about the water damage, the floorboards, and the nightmares, if only for the day. just the day. 

kei didn’t even know why akiteru bothered sometimes. he’d suggest a board game, or a movie, and it always ended in a petty argument. their mom would call their dad dumb for not understanding a rule, or their dad would attack their mom for interpreting the ending of a movie differently. it was like walking on eggshells at the tsukishima house. kei wanted to beg akiteru to put on some shoes every once in a while. he couldn’t understand why his parents got married in the first place. had there ever really been a time where their relationship wasn’t riddled with contradicting lies and opposing views? what did it look like, if there had? 

“tokyo is far,” yamaguchi said, absentmindedly tossing a volleyball up and down, “really far.”  
“i know. teachers get paid more there. my mom said so.” yamaguchi hummed. kei didn’t want to move, so he wouldn’t. his mom couldn’t make a decision like that anyways. she’d threaten it to prove a point or she’d wish it to live a better life, but she could never take the final step. wasn’t in her coding, or something. kei wasn’t worried about it. it was a sunday afternoon. he was tasked with organizing yamaguchi’s coin collection, since he couldn’t manage it himself.  
“what about your dad?” yamaguchi asked.  
“what about my dad?”  
“would he go, too?”  
“i don’t know. probably not,” kei finalized. he finished sorting through the coins and turned his head up to watch the ball fly up and down. towards the ceiling and back into small, weathered hands. it was almost like a pendulum, returning to the same two positions in a monotonous motion. only the volleyball went vertically, so kei guessed it really wasn’t like that at all. 

his dad was moving out. kei was surprised it took him this long. most days he was supposedly working from dusk until dawn. kei forgot he still lived there from time to time. his dad’s apartment was small and far from home. it barely fit one person, much less three when kei and akiteru spent the week there. they took turns sleeping on the bed, the floor, and the couch. the couch was moved to the bedroom. kei usually slept on the floor. akiteru needed company at night. the strongest memory kei has of the place was sitting directly in front of the door so his dad couldn’t leave the house to smoke. he’d seen a video about lung cancer at a school assembly. his dad ended up smoking inside the apartment. the worst part of it all, in kei’s opinion, was the simple lack of anything at all. the most personality it had at any given moment was a cloud of smoke from his fathers cigarettes or a box of raw spaghetti in the cabinet. the shower had only cold water. the walk up the stairs was brutal when he carried groceries. kei could understand why the rent was so cheap. he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to live there. he never once invited yamaguchi over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, the day has finally come.   
> my future magnum opus is currently in development but this is what i’ve been working on in bits and pieces between the ohgs chapters.  
> it’s kinda wanky but i hope u enjoy, be sure to leave a comment and give kudos!  
> follow me on twitter @brennuityy


	2. mauerbauertraurigkeit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mauerbauertraurigkeit - n. the inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like.

it seemed kei’s mom always had something to say. she failed to realize kei was her son, not a member of the PTO that she could gossip too.  
“your father hasn’t paid bills this month. i cant afford this place on my own.” kei didn’t understand why his dad had to pay bills for a place he no longer lived in, but he didn’t ask about it. the way his mom picked apart everything his father did reminded him of a vulture digging at it’s decomposed dinner. he once told akiteru about this, but he didn’t think it was funny. he thought it was disrespectful. kei didn’t know why akiteru held their parents up on such a high pedestal. in kei’s eyes, they weren’t worthy of a throne. they weren’t even worthy of a lawn chair. 

the apartment was close to a dog park, and kei spent a lot of time there. he nearly resented his father for buying a dog when they already lived in such an enclosed space. their landlord didn’t even allow pets; but his dad was a shitty spender and was generally bad at being an adult. kei didn’t care for animals one way or another, but he understood what it felt like to be cursed by the presence of his parents. the least he could do was give the dog some time to run around. most of the other park-goers were older dogs and their even older owners, so kei started bringing along an old mp3 player that he stole from his dad’s dresser and a janky pair of earbuds. all the music provided was old and oozed an aura of sweaty concerts and drugged up teenagers, but it was all kei had. he grew used to it. quite possibly the worst design feature he had ever seen, kei decided one day at the park, was the dieffenbachia plants at the front gate. all it took was a quick google search to learn that it was poisonous to dogs and should be completely avoided. these were the small things that chipped away at kei’s hope for society. not much could keep it together. he was only 12 at this point. 

kei remembers a time when his dad promised him a trip to the movie theater. some movie about a hero who lost his way or a soldier tragically forced to fight. kei wasn’t one for loud places with large crowds, but the way the large screen filled his vision provided an escape. he could imagine it was him fighting the waves of an ungrateful ocean, it was him putting out the fires that threatened his village. yamaguchi liked the movies, too. he found himself empathizing with almost every character. kei thought it was funny, sometimes, to see yamaguchi cry at a movie with a happy ending. he would laugh at his friends hyper-connection to characters that weren’t real. other times, he pretended not to notice. the night kei’s father was to take him and akiteru to see a movie, a woman showed up to come with them. kei barely knew her. kei didn’t invite her. kei didn’t want her to come. his dad insisted she was nice, that it would be fun to have her company. the woman was kei’s old babysitter. his dad was right, she was nice. but kei didn’t want her to come. she was like a lime trying to fit in with a bunch of lemons. kei didn’t want her to come. they went to the movies without him. 

kei’s parents were liars. his mom insisted the two were on good terms. his dad explained that love doesn’t fade that quickly. but their relationship was like a jenga tower, closer to collapsing after every pull of a conversation. when his dad drove him and akiteru back to their moms house early in the morning, she shouted at him for making her late for work. when his mom gave kei and akiteru dinner to take to his dad’s apartment, empty of food and even less full of familiarity, he raged on about how she could have made him a plate, too. kei’s mom’s house, which he would forever refer to as “home,” quietly crumbled beneath the weight of the tsukishimas’ sad attempt at being a family. the sides of the house grew mold and moss. the ac stopped working in the summers. the stairs creaked and moan like every step broke one of their bones. kei felt bad for it. it used to be so beautiful, representing the strength and support of the family that once was. a majestic poplar tree had once stood proudly in the front yard. now, half its branches were snapped and termites ate it from the inside out. 

“i don’t even know this woman,” kei said to his dad. he explained to kei and akiteru that he couldn’t afford the janky apartment anymore. kei wondered where all his dad’s money went to, if not bills. maybe he sent it to charities. or gave it to homeless people on the street. kei’s dad suggested the idea of moving into his girlfriend's house, just long enough for him to get back on his feet. kei didn’t like this plan.  
“sure you know her,” his dad said, “she was your babysitter.”  
“dad,” kei argued, “i was four. maybe five. i don’t even know her.” his dad sighed. akiteru didn’t say a word.  
“well, kei, it’s not like we have any other options at this point.” his dad pulled out a pack of marlboro light 72 cigarettes and left. kei stopped his brother before he went into the bedroom.  
“do you know her?” he asked. akiteru turned to look at him, his eyes tired and cold. the color in his irises begged and pleaded for something to fill them with warmth again; love, pride, admiration, respect. kei saw none of it. he figured his brother didn’t, either.  
“yeah,” akiteru replied, “we went to the movies together once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> those damn pto bitches, am i right?  
> follow me on twitter @brennuityy


	3. lachesism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lachesism - n. the desire to be struck by disaster.
> 
> tw for car crashes and blood (mentions, very minor)

her name was yuugen. kei always thought it was ridiculous. she explained that her parents were very philosophical people. that didn’t make her name any less ridiculous. she had two cats; an orange one named sora and a black one named hoshiko. sora pranced around like he owned the place, having no regard for any delicate decor in his way. kei didn’t see hoshiko much. he could usually be found under yuugens bed, or maybe tucked away in a tall piece of vintage furniture. his dad's dog hated the cats. all he did was bark at them, each noise pounding on the doors of kei’s forehead to let them in. yuugen didn’t know how to work computers, and she kept the cat bowls on the bar. kei spent as much time as possible up in the guest room where he slept. akiteru thought her house was nice, homely. he thought yuugen was a generous woman and they should but nothing but thankful for her. kei figured he could get along with her, if he really tried. she had long dark hair and a soft smile. she reminded him of yamaguchi’s mom, almost. kei didn’t bother to like her, though. she wasn't his mother. 

kei started spending more and more time at yamaguchi’s house. he preferred their house to his own. their poplar tree wasn’t dying. their ceilings weren’t sinking. the yamaguchis thrived on company. there were four kids in total- yamaguchi's older sister, his younger sister and brother who were twins, and yamaguchi. they flourished in bright, familial recreation and radiated a tender glow that filled kei with equal parts longing and embarrassment. his mom rarely raised her voice, only ever to calm the twins when it was too loud to be heard otherwise. his dad was a stand-up guy with an attitude so determined and forthcoming it was almost laughable. kei knew exactly who to ask if an apocalypse ever occurred. kei’s favorite thing about their house was the roof. just out of yamaguchi’s window was a flattened area of the roof out of sight from the road that was perfectly big enough to fit the two boys. they would spend hours up there. sometimes, it was exactly what kei needed. 

kei periodically felt like he was crazy. the way his mind twisted every possible scenario had him walking on a tightrope in his own head. he would be in the car with yuugen and imagine how easy it would be to grab the steering wheel and swerve them off the side of the road. the car would roll and tumble down an empty hill and catch fire. it would be an empty road, late at night, and no one would be there to help them. some other time he would be with yamaguchi, listening to old music vinyls in his room, and he’d think about what would happen if someone came in and shot yamaguchi right then and there. he’d have to watch his best friend’s blood pool out of his body and onto kei’s hands as he desperately held onto the only comfort he had left in his life.

kei wondered if yuugen and his dad ever considered marriage. he hoped they didn’t. his dad wasn’t the type of person who kei believed could ever be in a stable relationship. he wouldn’t wish that on any woman, no matter how much he disliked their house or their cats or their guest bedroom. kei didn’t want a younger sibling, either. he never especially liked hanging out with akiteru, but at least they had gone through their lives together. at least they had both seen the way the poplar tree’s branches snapped and landed gracelessly on the ground. a younger sibling wouldn’t have ever seen that. maybe yuugen would make a good mother. 

it was almost cruel how easily parents could lie to their children. they believed them to be gullible and naïve. kei wasn’t that stupid. when his dad revealed he’d be away on a business trip to mexico, kei saw right through it. he worked at a grocery store for god’s sake. there were no business trips. it was just another one of his father’s sad attempts to fill the void in his heart with experiences that he knew would never be worth it. kei’s mom was furious that he went on a trip with money he didn’t have and ‘friends’ he barely knew. he brought kei back an aztec branded hoodie. he gave it to yamaguchi’s little brother almost immediately. it felt wrong to wear a gift that felt so distant from the giver. 

yuugen eventually dissipated, melting into the morning dew in the yard of his dad’s new house. it was in a neighborhood far down the back roads of his town. kei had never even known it was there. the sign brandished amusement, watching as kei stared out onto new properties that he would never step foot on. the house itself was fitting, big enough to keep the three men comfortable but certainly small enough to make kei feel like the walls could close in on him at any given moment. he could hear yamaguchi’s voice telling him to “look on the bright side.” kei supposed it was nice he had his own room. the dog had space to run around. it wasn’t far from yamaguchi, either. the yard of his fathers house was barren- no poplar trees with leaves to be raked up in the fall. maybe it was better that way. maybe now kei’s family would have nothing left to kill. he couldn’t bare to see the trees die on his behalf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case anyone wanted to know why kei thought yuugen was such a dumb name, it's because it's a word used when considering japanese aesthetics and philosophy. it generally means that the universe is so profound and unfathomable that it will evoke emotions that humans will never be able to comprehend. it's pretty much the melodramatic elegance of human suffering. i figured it fit her character since she sort of appeared in kei's life just to drag his spirit into murky waters. kinda sad, if im honest. sorry, kei.  
> the name sora (cat #1) is a generic pet name meaning sky, and hoshiko (cat #2) means star or star child.  
> you know the drill: follow me on twitter @brennuityy


End file.
